


"That Slobbering Rainbow Beatnik, Robbie"

by DaintyDuck_99



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Mabel and Dipper are 19, Multi, Not AU, Personality Swap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-15 02:47:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7203335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaintyDuck_99/pseuds/DaintyDuck_99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mabel Pines is apathetic. She feels dull or pissy on top of too many other things, feelings too dark to dechipher. What the hell is happening? Dipper is acting awfully laidback, and the Stans aren't home...worse, it seems to be a town-wide epidemic. Everyone is acting like somebody else.... with the aid of the gnomes, can the twins set things to rights before time runs out?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mabel's Axe of Apathy and Dipper's Blunt Thick Skin

This was troubling. 

Sprawled on the den floor in the Mystery Shack in a miserable, sweaty heap, Mable Pines just couldn't shake this newfound sense of apathy and muster the will to do anything. She felt like a dull knife, numb to the universe. Nothing had drastically changed-so why had she? Sure, some bizarre heat wave was happening, but the weather didn't turn people's souls inside out and make them someone else (according to Dipper, but then, he was acting oddly laid-back lately). Plucking at the hem of her mauve camisole, she wondered idly when the Stans would return. 

As another monster movie trotted out onto the TV screen (she had a sudden liking for them), Dipper ambled into the room, reeking of some kind of manly bodywash (Lionspelt, he later told a fawning Wendy in a rather offhand manner) and sporting frayed denim shorts. A red flannel shirt was slung over his neck. A brown hat-not unlike the first one he'd had as a kid-smothered his course curls. He was leaning in the doorway, popping a piece of gum in such a languid manner that it was starting to freak her out. 

Unease licked around the dull feeling in the pit of her stomach like flames, temporarily drowning it out. Mabel lept up from the floor, pushing her lengthy ponytail out of her face. "Okay, something's going on!" she declared. "What have you been up to?" she then demanded, the wheels in her brain screeching fiercely. She had a clear idea of what had happened, but not how, and it was starting to piss her off. Dipper shrugged, glancing at her fists balled up at her sides (the nails were also painted dark purple). "Splitting wood," he answered as though it was the most natural thing in the world. 

"That's it! Come on!" Growling, she yanked on Dipper's arm and spun him towards the door. "Sheesh, let me put on some shoes! Where are we going?" Dipper hopped on one foot as he laced up a muddy white shoe. Mabel scowled (deep in the pits of hell, Cerberus was cowering). 

"To see that slobbering rainbow beatnik, Robbie."


	2. Mabel Murders the Golf Cart (and Robbie's Mom Is Obsessed with Pinterest)

Dipper slowly pried his fingers away from the blessedly sturdy interior of the golf cart. Mabel had always driven a tad recklessly, but the short trip to Robbie's house had nearly peeled the skin off of his face, due to her speeding like a bat out of hell. Growling, she stormed out of the cart and up to the front door. Still taken aback by her newfound abrasiveness, Dipper nonchalantly ambled after her, masking his alarm with ease. 

"Dude, what makes you think he knows anything? We're like, in the same situation. Except he's probably trying to knit his way out of it." Dipper pointed out, waiting for someone to respond to the doorbell. She rolled her eyes. "I dunno, maybe he'll have a hare-brained idea that's so crazy it works. Do you have a better idea, smart guy?" For some reason, every scenario Dipper could conjure up involved wrestling the answer out of someone or something, so he kept his mouth shut. 

Suddenly, the door flew open, nearly sending the twins sprawling. A fluffy gray bathrobe had answered the door. Huddled inside was Robbie's mother, wearing an obsessive amount of eye-liner and sporting blue streaks in her hair. Her eyes were glued to the bright screen of a silver cell phone. "Um," Mabel floundered, wariness minimizing her scowl, "we're here to see your son?" 

Sighing, Mrs. Valentino dragged her eyes away from the phone. "Sure, totally. Just don't blow up my Pinterest. I'm planning a funeral." "Uh...." Dipper fumbled, mostly attempting to cover Mabel's disapproving tsk, "sure, cool. We'll keep that in mind." He led the way inside, brushing past the matriarch, who was back to scrolling like a madwoman. 

"How are we gonna know which room's his?" he mused. Mabel tipped her head. "My bet's on the eye-barf over there." 

The door she was talking about looked like the portal to the Love God's mansion. It was deep red in color, plastered with pictures of couples, flowers, hearts, and puppies. White lights illuminated the border. 

Mabel strolled right up to it. "Let's do this." Dipper wasn't too reassured, seeing as she had said the same thing before murdering the pedals of the golf cart. However, he shrugged off his unease. 

It was only Robbie, right?


End file.
